S2 E1 - She Frets

He's working the station's white board while she sits at her desk and frets. She'd fretted during the ride back from the plantation yesterday, she'd fretted all night, and now she continues to fret... except the frets are amping up to real concern!

If a solid prosperous mutually adventitious marriage like the Seymour's can break up then what safety is there for anyone? Look at Maman and me... abandoned! And for what - a pretty face, a simpering smile, a new skin? My father, my hero, the man I trusted absolutely, threw us away without a single qualm. It was only by the grace of God and the help of precious friends that we didn't starve in the streets.

She makes a fist, presses it into the desktop, grits her teeth. He left us... but if he thought we missed him, wanted him back... he was SO wrong! She remembers the nights she cried herself to sleep, praying for his return, but she long ago forgave that grieving frightened child. Maman had shown her the way. A woman has to be fearless... otherwise men will ruin your life!

Her gaze slides to where a man paces and works the case. Yes, otherwise they ruin your life. But what if he could also MAKE your life? How do you judge his worthiness? How can you trust him not to be a babbling schoolboy when another woman offers new and exciting possibilities? She runs her glance over the pacing man again, feels the familiar frisson for a hotly desired object... and chastises herself severely!

He's NOT an object! If I think like that then I'm no better than my faithless feckless floozy of a father! He's a person, with a past I know almost nothing about. Come to that, I don't know much about his present either. He seems all work and no play... but how do I know for sure? Maybe I'll ask Dwayne if he's heard anything... not much gets past Dwayne.

Then she frowns and looks away... except I hope my feelings for our boss has escaped his notice. It's a miracle Richard himself hasn't picked up on it. Thank goodness for my years undercover. Never did I imagine I'd need my professional training to save me from the dangers of love!

She groans softly and sinks her face into her hands. Her thoughts have circled until she's dizzy but it all boils down to one question. Can I trust Richard? I want to, god, I so desperately want to! If I tell him how I feel, can he feel the same? If we start a relationship, will he stay with me? If we have a child...? The thought of a baby washes heat over her skin and she can't help but peek at him through her fingers...

... to see him gravely looking back! She sits up with a gulp. "Have you solved it?"

He slowly shakes his head, "No." He frowns minutely then tips his head slightly, watching her.

She swallows, "Oh, er, then what is it?"

He sighs, "You made a strange noise. I know this case disturbs you, raking up painful childhood memories, and I'm sorry but as soon as we solve it, you can rest easy."

It pops out of her mouth without warning, "Would you ever do that? Abandon your family?"

He blinks, rears back, "I'm insulted! Didn't you hear me tell certain suspects that I uphold the sanctity of marriage?"

Her heart lurches, remembering exactly who had been in that room, "Yeah, of course, but that was before..." She stalls, catching her next words before they mercilessly expose her yearning heart... before I fell in love with you.

His eyebrows go up, "Before what?"

"Before I realized what a good person you are. At the time, I thought you were just being sarcastic and scoring points off them."

Now he's indignant, "I NEVER score points off people. I may chastise them for bad behaviour or point out the error of their ways, and I certainly nail them for murder, but scoring? Never."

She looks down, "I know that NOW, back then I didn't."

He huffs and looks away, "After all this time, haven't I earned a little bit of your trust?" Then, so quietly that she almost doesn't hear, "I'm not like your father..."

Her head snaps up, "I really want to believe that. Men ruin women's lives."

He's studying the floor, "So do women, ruin lives I mean, men's lives."

She feels an enormous surge of fear, grabs it with both hands, and harnesses it for strength, "If I tell you something awful and you don't agree, will you try not to hate me?"

His green gaze comes up, "That depends. What is it?"

She bites her lip, "That I want to trust you. I want it badly. I just don't know how to tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

"That I think I'm in love with you." And there it is. Just like that.

He stares at her for long moments before his head drops and he mutters, "Oh, well, er..."

She covers her eyes, "Oh, I just KNEW you couldn't..."

He holds up an admonishing hand, struggles to speak, "Don't finish that sentence, please. Give me a chance to find my courage. Um..." He takes a deep breath, puts hands to hips, and looks up to the ceiling. "Whew, OK, taking heart now. So, um, here's the thing..."

She can't look, her whole future hangs on his next words.

"... I don't hate you... because I think I'm in love with you too." He crosses his arms in a futile attempt to protect his heart.

The silence is suddenly very loud as two people fear to look at each another.

Finally, she lowers her hands and whispers, "You don't? You are?"

He whispers to the air overhead, "Yes... and thank you for being the brave one here. I would have gone to my grave without saying anything, I'm such a coward."

She rises, edging out from behind her desk, "You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest men I've ever met. I want you in my life, not just on the job but privately too."

He shakes his head, "That might be a bit more than is healthy. You know what I'm like."

She sidles closer, puts a hand on his arm, feels the tension there, "Yes, I know what you're like... here at work. What I want to discover is what you're like at home, in private."

His gaze is very intense as it drops to study her, "Oh? I'd like to discover that as well."

She edges nearer, his arms are still crossed, his defenses still up. "Don't you already know?"

His arms open, his hands reaching but stop shy of actually touching her, "No, I don't."

She slides inside the circle of his arms and exalts in feeling his light embrace that tightens as she says, "Oh, that's good, that's SO good! I want to be the one to find out." She leans back slightly, looks up at him like she's done in all her dreams, "Will you trust me enough to try?"

He snugs her in under his chin and murmurs, "Camille, I trust you with my life. You know that."

She hugs him, "Yes, on the job, but now we're talking about our actual real lives. Forever."

"I know... and I'm more than ready to explore what that means. Fair warning, this might include an abrupt marriage proposal...if that doesn't frighten you."

"It doesn't... and I warn YOU, this might include children. Just make me one promise?"

He rubs his cheek against her temple, "Other than to love, honour, and cherish?"

"Yes, promise me you won't turn into a babbling school boy if some woman with a death wish decides you're her next conquest?"

He laughs, which fascinates her as she listens to him deep in his chest, "Oh, I can promise you it's already too late. I'm already a babbling school boy... with you." He tips her chin up with a gentle hand, "For me there is only you, Camille. Only you."

She smiles back, "Oh good, we seem to finally agree on something."

She sees his smile up close for the first time as he murmurs, "All we need do now is seal it with a kiss..." and his mouth claims hers... and it's very good. Better than good. The best.

END